


unmade masterpieces

by demonhologram



Series: valeyne bs [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Jerome is dead, Just a depressing thing, M/M, Set in 4x20, obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 18:14:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14550462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonhologram/pseuds/demonhologram
Summary: jerome was dead. officially, forever. there was no coming back for him this time. no more sadistic jokes or holding bruce hostage. no more waking up to a smiling redhead, pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw, giggling when bruce mumbled something incoherent.





	unmade masterpieces

watching jeremiah become who he actually was was like chewing sand, to bruce. the blood, the laughter, the insanity. to think he was more sane than jerome was what really made him the opposite. 

it was utterly terrifying. bruce really did have to keep an eye on those closest to him, as he had not already done that, clearly. watching a full transformation of someone you could probably trust with your life to the scariest person bruce had met. 

and then bruce saw jerome's body, and his world fell apart. and that’s when he hated jeremiah the most. he wasn’t scared of him in those moments, no, he was just angry. the world felt like one of jeromes bitter jokes, laughing at bruce when he cried. of course he didn’t actually, he couldn’t. he felt sick to the stomach. 

he still had tears in his eyes when he stared down jerome's corpse. unsmiling, in a monochrome suit because they’d stripped him of who he really was. bruce wondered if now that he’s been dug up he’d get a coffin again, or if they’d bury him like a dead animal. 

he let out a quiet sob before he could stop himself, and that really caught jeremiah's attention, who looked at bruce and gave the tiniest smile. “my brother had a strange affiliation for you. he and i have that in common i supposed. but you care for him. that is what truly baffles me.”

bruce tried to escape from the maniacs again, but it was just a feeble twist of his body that did nothing to help. jeremiah stepped closer, his eyes examining the every little detail on bruce's body, who squirmed and shivered under the watchful eye. 

“you’re as demented as he was if you think you care about him.” was it jealousy that jeremiah felt? it didn’t sound like his careful, precise and thought out words like usual, he was angry. “jerome didn’t have allies. doesn’t.” 

jeremiah calmed again. then smiled. and then he turned around and kicked jerome’s body, already so ruined and uncharacterised, into the dug up hole. bruce didn’t even hear his own scream properly, or register the fact he was thrashing and screaming until he fell forward, his palms scuffing and his knees protesting at the sudden pain.

“oh, bruce.” jeremiah sighed, his shiny shoes coming into bruce's vision, whose eyes were definitely stinging with tears now. “you really are as sick as him.”

bruce was thrown in the grave with jerome, after a swift kick to the temple. 

he woke up probably only quarter of an hour later, no trace of the maniacs or jeremiah other than himself and jerome. jerome, who was cold and unsmiling underneath him. 

bruce felt his eyes blurring again. his hands were shaking, desperately digging his fingertips into the silver suit jerome was clad in. he let out a single , choked sob, and then he was curling his legs up, crying into his own shoulder. 

jerome was dead. officially, forever. there was no coming back for him this time. no more sadistic jokes or holding bruce hostage. no more waking up to a smiling redhead, pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw, giggling when bruce mumbled something incoherent. 

bruce cried, and then he cried some more. “please don’t go. please.” he whispered, despite the fact jerome was well past gone. “i need you. i need… i can’t do this without you.” because yet another person he loved was dead. one step forward, two steps back. he could feel the slight dips in jeromes skin where the bullet holes were. 

“i need you.” he repeated, over and over again until someone was pulling him out of the grave, away from jerome. “please…”

**Author's Note:**

> this was an idea prompt by @koresart o instagram! sorry it’s so depressing lmao. i needed to vent write. comment pls i need validation


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